


A Raw Record

by Nebulad



Series: Sea of Stars [24]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How pissed can your dad be that you married a human?” she asked cheerfully, and she could have tazed him and got a milder reaction. He went rigid which was hell for her soft human skull against his radiation-proof plates. <i>“Merde,</i> what the fuck was that for?”</p><p>“I forgot to tell him,” Garrus choked out, just as the shuttle landed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Raw Record

The Citadel ports were obviously closed, which meant that post-war intergalactic traffic had to be managed in some other manner. The obvious answer would have been to restrict mass effect activity to individual systems— less confusion that way, and easier to make an official record of death count. Of course, destroying the Reapers made that impossible and for all the time that Liara, Tali, Miranda, and EDI were spending trying to improvise plans for new relays, the fact remained that panicked survivors were stranded worlds away from their families.

Garrus and Faust were lucky in that regard. In addition to having some jury-rigged military access to the extranet, Talus and Solana Vakarian were in the Sol system as representatives for C-Sec and the Turian Military (along with a few others). Victus was taking the opportunity to improve human-turian relations, and Faust had to remember to send him a gift basket.

She went with Garrus to pick them up from the port they were landing in— precious few ships were up and running, but those that were available were being used around the clock— even though he was… skeptical about bringing her. “A human can’t tell one turian from the other, but every person in the universe would recognize you.”

“What, do I embarrass you?” she teased, leaning against him while they waited for the shuttle that would bring his family to the London docking station.

“ _No,_ but I figured you might prefer a… _controlled_ environment to meet my dad in. I’ve told you about him, right?” he asked, sliding a hand around her waist. She nodded, but shrugged. She’d done a lot of shit these past few months, including almost die… meeting her new father-in-law was actually looking pretty exciting in a nice, normal, not world-ending sort of way.

“How pissed can he be that you married a human?” she asked cheerfully, and she could have tazed him and got a milder reaction. He went rigid which was _hell_ for her soft human skull against his radiation-proof plates. _“Merde,_ what the fuck was that for?”

“I forgot to tell him,” Garrus choked out, just as the shuttle landed.

“You _forgot?”_

“Everyone we know was there! I just… I forgot that he wasn’t.” Garrus turned to where passengers were filing off as fast as the attendants could force them to go, then back at Shepard. “We just don’t mention it until we get home,” he proposed.

“Fuck,” she agreed, gnawing at her thumbnail. She was flashing back to the early days by the Mako, hearing Garrus tell her _my dad wouldn’t like you._

“Shep?”

“What?”

“I think Solana knows.” For some reason that didn’t seem to reassure him.

“That’s good, yeah? One relative we don’t have to surprise.”

“I don’t think she knows that dad doesn’t know.” Faust ran her hands against her face, trying not to let out an audible groan. It would only draw attention to her and the last fucking thing they needed was an audience for this scene.

“ _Tabarnak.”_

He frowned. “I think my translator is broken,” he said, fiddling with his visor as a turian with matching clan marks scurried off the ship, followed by a stern looking man who surveyed the crowd like a professional.

“ _Fuck.”_

“There it goes. Anyway, maybe we got lucky and she hasn’t said anything to him.” He waved his hand and his sister scrambled over to him, hauling two backpacks over her shoulders. She dropped them about a foot away to jump on her brother, and the siblings made a clacking noise as they collided that reminded Faust of shooting mechs. “Lana, have you said anything—”

“You should have _told me_ he didn’t know, Garrus,” his sister hissed. Faust deflated, jamming her hands in her pockets and waiting for the inevitable approach of her new unwilling family. “You must be Shepard.” Solana didn’t _sound_ disappointed and at this point, she would take it.

“Faust,” she offered, holding out her hand. Solana frowned in confusion, and Garrus nudged her.

“It’s her first name. I’ll give you the translation later. Did you leave dad behind somewhere?”

“He stopped to direct the C-Sec he has with him. I’m gunna have to head out to see what my orders are too—” She paused as Talus Vakarian finally approached, his posture rigidly straight. He embraced his son— the whole family fully armoured like they expected a shootout at any moment— and then turned to Faust. She was about to smile, about to greet him and try to win him over— for fuck sakes, she’d already done it with the entire galaxy, _one_ turian couldn’t have been _that_ bad— when she heard the camera click.

“Commander Shepard!”

_No._

“Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani—” She had to be introducing herself to the audience, because Shepard _knew_ her. The only person as constant as Garrus and Tali through the whole return of the Reapers, Faust had to admit she was sort of fond of the woman. She didn’t know shit about journalism, but she liked a person willing to camp out on C-Sec’s doorstep until someone answered her questions. Give her a gun and they could be partners.

“Khalisah—” _And the camera was on._ “Are you filming?” she asked in the absolute poorest stage-whisper she had ever managed, trying to avoid looking directly into the little green light.

“We’re live, Commander,” she said, looking at Talus and Solana in turn. “I started an independent extranet series— satellites are down everywhere, but several journalists I’ve connected with wanted a raw record of Earth.” Of course they had. And of course the entire universe had aligned so this moment was being filmed.

“Look, I’m sort of busy at the moment.” She didn’t know _why_ she was still whispering, because she was sure the camera was capable of real-time subtitles.

“Don’t let _us_ keep you, Shepard.” Talus sounded like his son, if a bit rustier. Garrus always had a voice that wavered on _too intimate_ and _hyper-professional_ , fluctuating as the mood of the conversation changed. Based on Talus’ tone, the mood was resentful and didn’t like Shepard.

“ _Dad.”_ Garrus sounded angry and Solana was scowling.

“What? I’ve watched her interviews. She needs at least five minutes to mouth off to the camera before she storms away.” _How’s that for raw?_ He wasn’t even wrong, which was sort of embarrassing— she hadn’t spoken to reporters before being named a Spectre, and by then she was already pissed off and sick of dealing with the galaxy’s shit. All her interviews were just her standing at attention and staring down the camera.

“Look, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you but we only did it so I would be able to sit with her in the hospital,” Garrus insisted. Faust nodded enthusiastically, because that was also true. The wedding had taken place around her sickbed, and was only pseudo-legal. Liara had been forging wedding documents and implanting them in intact Alliance systems while Tali tearfully gave a very moving speech about the couple and Miranda pronounced them. Joker had even snuck in some champagne that she couldn’t drink.

“That’s a comfort— you’ve quit one successful job, quit the spectre training that would have made you no better than a pirate anyway, ran away for two years to be a vigilante, and now I find out you impulse married the human that ruined your life, and for no reason,” he hissed. Garrus’ fringe was flared out but his _angry vigilante_ face was a lot less impressive when thrown up against Talus’ _pissed off cop._ Faust had… _significantly_ underestimated how much resentment her father-in-law had been meticulously tending to in the years she’d known Garrus.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to think of a way to end this before it began. Solana was making a valiant attempt at splitting them up, but short of shooting at them there wasn’t really anything that she could do. She was just as tall as them, but less willing to start throwing elbows lest it set off the powderkeg.

First, Shepard decided, the camera had to go.

“al-Jianai, I’ll give you my first full interview if you shut that thing off right _now,”_ she hissed towards the reporter, who snapped her fingers like magic. The green light blinked red. Shepard doubted al-Jiani had any nefarious intentions by keeping it on so long— she wasn’t paparazzi after all, so it wasn’t like she was looking to ruin Faust’s life specifically.

“We’ll be in touch,” she promised evenly, turning the camera around to catch a family reuniting— a better, more adjusted family who hadn’t been told on the ride over that their son had married his Commander in the hospital after the war. At least the two had been slowly split up while she focused on the camera— Talus was now staring her down like he was waiting for her to pull a gun on him like a merc, Garrus was glaring at him like a teenager, and Solana had her face in her hand.

“Cab’s outside,” she blurted, turning about-face and walking. Eventually at least one of them would have to follow.

. . . . .

Khaliesah adjusted the lighting slightly to account for how wane Shepard was looking lately. It was hard to sleep, which was making it hard to socialize, which wasn’t endearing her to Talus. It’d actually been a welcome relief to get the call from al-Jiani that she’d take her up on that interview— she was still scowling on the chair she was sitting on, though, because it wouldn’t be a Shepard interview if she wasn’t.

“So, Commander. The cameras aren’t on yet, but I’m curious about the turian you were meeting. He didn’t seem fond of you.” Khaliesah was really _earning_ that journalism degree, but Shepard didn’t say so. She was irritable because she was tired, because the stress didn’t go away with the war for some reason.

“In my defence, I thought the whole thing would go _a lot_ more smoothly than it did,” she admitted, trying to resist the urge to slouch. Hackett hadn’t authorized an interview, but in all fairness she hadn’t actually heard from the Admiral since Anderson’s improvised memorial. They’d both been a little drunk. They’d both pretended not to notice. “Also I blame Garrus. You can quote me on that.”

“Funny. I don’t think that’s even the first time you’ve said that to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) and this was posted on there ages ago, but I just noticed it isn't on ao3 so there. I'm starting another school year, will hopefully get writing done before the soul gets sucked out of my body.
> 
> Also high key really like Khalisah, frustrated with fandom's insistence on punching her. Because that's what you do when women annoy you. Punch them. Forget the slimy cockfuck that tells female Shepard to sit her pretty ass down with him in a strip club. No, you have to _insist_ on Garrus not hurting him. Khalisah, you punch.


End file.
